


The Achilles' Heel

by hmweasley



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Regulus Black Lives, Angst, Gen, Mental Health Issues, POV Regulus Black, Regulus Black-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:55:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25876258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hmweasley/pseuds/hmweasley
Summary: Once he and Kreacher make it out of the cave, Regulus has to decide what to do next.
Relationships: Regulus Black & Kreacher
Comments: 6
Kudos: 81





	The Achilles' Heel

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts:  
> Regulus Black  
> Write about someone trying to bury something.

The cave dissolved around Regulus, reforming as the Grimmauld Place back garden moments later. Not that Regulus had much time to take in the familiar surroundings before he collapsed to the ground, black spots dotting his vision.

“Master Regulus!” Kreacher called frantically from beside him. “Master Regulus!”

He hovered, too nervous to touch one of his masters without permission yet unable to leave him alone. Regulus wouldn’t have minded being touched, but he was too delirious from the potion to worry about Kreacher. He pressed his elbows into the grass, feeling like he would lose the contents of his stomach at any moment.

He was seconds away from it when Kreacher shoved a potion vial under his nose. The smell of it was instantly calming, and Regulus downed the vial without considering its possible effects. It worked instantaneously. He no longer felt as close to death as he had in the bowels of the cave, but a new sense of urgency came along with the clarity.

“The locket,” he rasped, his throat painful. “Kreacher, where is the locket?”

Kreacher scrambled for the necklace in question, holding it out to Regulus with a trembling hand.

“Master told Kreacher to save it, so Kreacher did.”

Regulus snatched the locket from his hand. He had yet to see it except through the potion, and it was the first time he could appreciate the weight of it. It had been crafted to exude superiority. Anyone who wore it around their neck would be unable to forget it was there.

He took a moment to admire the object, both for the original craftsmanship of a Slytherin heirloom and for its newer purpose as something horrific yet awe-inspiring. Never had he expected to hold something so significant in his hands. It should never have been him who was entrusted with such a thing’s destruction, yet there he was. The rush of it all clouded his mind, making it difficult to make a logical next move.

The Dark Lord would have his head—or worse—if he messed up. How was someone as young and inexperienced as he meant to fool the Dark Lord?

Yet, he already had, hadn’t he? Just by understanding house elf magic. Regulus hadn’t expected someone as powerful as the Dark Lord to have such a lack of awareness.

Regulus looked up at Kreacher, who stared back with wide, unblinking eyes. The elf was nervous, his eyes flickering towards the house though they both knew Orion and Walburga had gone to a ball at the Malfoys until late. Kreacher would do anything that Regulus asked of him. That was what had gotten them into their current trouble in the first place.

Perhaps house elf magic could once again be the vulnerability that ruined the Dark Lord’s carefully calculated plans, but Regulus had risked Kreacher’s life once. He couldn’t do it again.

Frantically, he began scratching at the dirt in the garden, shuddering at the feel of it under his nails. The last time he’d played in dirt, he’d received such a nasty punishment that he’d never done it again. Yet he pushed away the aversion as he dug.

“Master Regulus!” Kreacher shouted, even more alarmed than when they’d first arrived. “Kreacher gave Master the potion. He did! What is wrong with Master Regulus?”

“Nothing,” Regulus snapped as his hands continued to scoop out handfuls of dirt.

It was harder work than he had expected, and as he went, he seemed to remove less dirt each time he grabbed some. The thing he was making was hardly even a hole. He growled in frustration as dirt fell into it, partially filling it once more.

“Master Regulus’s wand!”

Regulus ignored Kreacher. It may not have occurred to a house elf, who could snap their fingers and perform magic that would never be traced, but Regulus knew what steps the Dark Lord would go to when tracking down his betrayers. Magic was not an option.

He had to bury the locket with his own hands. Later, once he had learned to destroy it, perhaps it would be safe to do so with a wand, but not yet. He couldn’t risk something like that. A simple hole dug with his own hands would be untraceable.

He worked furiously, dirt flying everywhere, including back into the hole he was meant to be digging. Beside him, Kreacher sobbed, too frightened to intervene without instructions but too worried to leave without being dismissed.

“Master and Mistress Black!” Kreacher exclaimed, his wide eyes focused on the house where he could sense Regulus’s parents returning. The exclamation broke through to Regulus in a way Kreacher’s earlier sobs hadn’t. He froze, clumps of dirt in each hand and panic in his heart.

His hole wasn’t deep enough to hide anything. They’d be found out, and what was he to say to his parents then? His head ached despite the potion, and he’d never been more tired in his life. All he wanted was to sleep. Nothing else had ever sounded so heavenly.

With a snap of Kreacher’s fingers, the locket was in the ground and the dirt packed together. Even the grass appeared the same as before, without a single blade out of place. No one would suspect it had been touched since the gardener had last trimmed it. Regulus stared at the spot, his heart sinking at the thought of the evil object buried beneath the surface. He wanted to check on it, make sure it was safe, but that went against the entire purpose of burying it.

“Master Regulus.” Kreacher worked up the courage to touch him, his hand clutching at Regulus’ robes and tugging. “Master Regulus must come inside. Kreacher must take Master Regulus to his room. Mistress must not see him. Master Regulus knows that Mistress does not like seeing the noble and ancient house of Black dirty.”

Regulus glanced down at his dirt-covered clothes. He inspected his nails, which appeared entirely black in the dim light of a London night.

He glanced up at the sky, taking in the full moon and the London lights. It was well and truly the middle of the night. He’d forgotten. Nighttime in London couldn’t come close to the darkness he’d experienced in the cave.

“Kreacher will clean Master Regulus,” Kreacher muttered as he began tugging Regulus inside.

Regulus went easily, directionless with the hole no longer taking up his attention. There were things that needed to be done, yet he didn’t know where to start. He and Kreacher slipped through the halls of the house, knowing exactly where to go so as not to encounter Regulus’s parents.

They made it safely to Regulus’s room, and with a snap of Kreacher’s fingers, the dirt was gone from Regulus’s robes and fingernails. It was even gone from his hair, though how it had gotten there in the first place remained a mystery.

He collapsed onto his bed and closed his eyes before he could think to say anything to Kreacher. Once he was still, there was a persistent burning in his insides. Whether it was from the potion in the cave or the one Kreacher had given him he had no idea. He still wasn’t sure what the full consequences of that horrid drink in the cave would be.

At that moment, it didn’t matter. His eyes couldn’t stay open, and the fog that had enveloped his brain since the cave, though temporarily thinned thanks to Kreacher, now grew thick once more.

Everything else would come later. For the moment, he would sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me on [Tumblr](http://madetofly.tumblr.com)!


End file.
